nd mountains, we
thought, if anything, was more beautiful than that by which we had come
in 1828.

We were much gratified with the appearance of Zurich; more even than in
our former visit, and not the less so at finding it unusually empty. The
agitated state of Europe, particularly of England, has kept the usual
class of travellers at home, though the cantons are said to be pretty
well sprinkled with Carlists, who are accused of assembling here lo
plot. M. de Chateaubriand is in the same hotel as ourselves, but it has
never been my fortune to see this distinguished writer to know him, even
accidentally; although I afterwards learned that, on one occasion, I had
sat for two hours on a bench immediately before him, at a meeting of the
French Academy. My luck was no better now, for he went away unseen, an
hour after we arrived. Some imagine themselves privileged to intrude on
a celebrity, thinking that those men will pardon the inconvenience for
the flattery, but I do not subscribe to this opinion: I believe that
nothing palls sooner than notoriety, and that nothing is more grateful
to those who have suffered under it, than retirement.

By a singular concurrence, we were at Zurich the second time on Sunday,
and almost on the same day of the year. In 1828, we drove along the
lake-shore, August 30th, and we now left Zurich, for the same purpose,
August 28th, after an interval of four years. The same objects were
assembled, under precisely the same circumstances: the lake was covered
with boats, whose tall sails drooped in pure laziness; the solemn bells
startled the melancholy echoes, and the population was abroad, now as
then, in holiday guise, or crowding the churches. The only perceptible
changes in the scene were produced by the change in our own direction.
Then we looked towards the foot of the lake, and had its village-lined
shores before us, and the country that melts away towards the Rhine for
a back-ground; while now, after passing the objects in the near view,
the sight rested on the confused and mysterious mountains of Glaris.

We took our _gouter_ at the _Paon_, and, unwilling to cross the bridge
in the carriage, we all preceded it through the crowded streets of
Rapperschwyl, leaving the _voiturier_ to follow at his leisure. We were
just half an hour on this bridge, which appeared as ticklish as ever,
though not so much as to stifle the desire of P---- to see how near its
edge he could walk. When we entered Sch